


Time for Now

by rivendellrose



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Crew as Family, F/M, Gen, Puppies, Stress Relief, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 00:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellrose/pseuds/rivendellrose
Summary: The war is over and Discovery is back where it belongs, but the scars linger. Admiral Cornwell helps the crew find ways to heal.Mostly gen, but Ash/Michael if you squint.





	Time for Now

"Crew morale and mental health are my greatest concern at the moment, now that the immediate crisis has passed." Admiral Cornwell looked over the new command staff of the Discovery with a compassionate but incisive eye. "This crew has lost its captain. It nearly lost more. And I get the sense that none of you have had much time in the last year to breathe. The human mind and body can only take so much."

"Agreed, Admiral." Saru -- Captain Saru, now, and that was something that Michael was still very much getting used to -- nodded crisply. "I've put in a request for shore leave, but I'm afraid there are a great many other ships ahead of us in the queue--"

"No doubt," Cornwell agreed. "But shore leave isn't the only way to encourage relaxation and recovery among your crew."

"Er... of course not." The faintly panicked look on Saru's face was something Burnham knew all too well. He had no idea what those other options might be. He was going to take a stab at it, though, so he wouldn’t be thought immediately clueless by his superior. "Now that the war is over, we will be standing down from combat-readiness and easing crew shifts back to a more relaxed schedule..."

"That's a good start. But I was thinking of some more concrete pushes toward relaxation and stress relief."

Saru glanced between his senior staff members, holding for a moment on Burnham, before looking back to Cornwell and stretching out his hands. "I'd be grateful for any advice you may have to offer, Admiral."

* * * 

Some of the admiral's suggestions, Burnham could not even pretend to understand. Mandatory screening sessions with a trained counselor, and further therapy for those who were flagged as experiencing strong emotional distress, made sense to her, as did group meditation training. For herself she wasn't thrilled by the dance party arranged in the mess hall after hours, but she had to admit that it made most of the crew very happy... and after getting dragged out onto the floor by Tilly and then intercepted as she tried to make her escape by a rueful but earnest Ash, it eventually made Burnham happy, as well. The ice cream sundae bar made even less sense to her, but everyone else seemed thrilled, so she went along with it, and even consented to put some sprinkles and nuts on her chocolate ice cream. Tilly convinced her to at least try the hot fudge, crushed nuts, and marshmallows that she herself had chosen, and Burnham had to admit it was good. She wasn't sure about Ash's decision to put gummy bears on his, but it seemed to chase away some of the shadows in his eyes, and that was what mattered. 

The movie night had been interesting. Burnham's knowledge of the history of Human pop culture definitely still had some gaps, and "When Harry Met Sally" had been... educational. 

All of these, Saru accepted with the typical resignation of a being who didn't understand a great deal of what Humans found entertaining, but had learned to accept that fighting it would only make it worse. Saying he disapproved of wasting ship's resources on an ice cream sundae bar would only get him dire looks and muttering from his crew, so he accepted the situation as it was and sprinkled his strawberry ice cream with blueberries, mochi bits, and salt. But on the third week, he approached Burnham with a very concerned and exasperated expression.

"Of all of Admiral Cornwell's suggestions, I... must admit I find this the most dubious." He handed her a data padd.

"'Stress relief puppies?'" Burnham read. 

"I cannot imagine how letting primitive infant carnivores loose on the ship will be an improvement to crew morale."

"They're more like omnivorous companion animals," Burnham muttered vaguely. A memory had surfaced in her mind -- one that had been buried so long she couldn't even be sure it was real and not the kind of imagined memory she might have constructed with the assistance of stories and pictures. She was young -- very young -- and she was begging her parents for a puppy as they tried to explain to her that it wouldn't be very happy living on the science outpost. How it would be a danger to the Vulcan wildlife, and vice versa. Looking back on the rest of her childhood, she suspected the latter had been her parents' greater concern. She hadn't had the nerve to try again, later, with Amanda and Sarek, but she'd always been envious of Spock's pet _sehlat_ , and her wish must have been obvious to Amanda, who bought her a brilliant teela bird in the market one day when she was six. It wasn't a puppy, though. Nothing in the universe was quite like a puppy. "I think it's a good idea."

"Really?" 

A year ago, Saru would have dismissed her opinion out of hand. He would have pressed and fussed and insisted that she wasn't thinking of the potential consequences, and Georgiou would have rolled her eyes fondly. Now, Saru was listening to her. He was still questioning... but he seemed more surprised and interested than intent on dismissing her point of view.

"I do."

"Then... I'll approve it."

Cornwell herself brought over the puppies from Starbase 46, with the help of a few officers in the psychiatric service there -- six marvelously round, soft creatures with big, dark eyes and stubby, bumbling legs, over which almost the entire crew of the Discovery immediately lost their minds. The puppies were set loose in a gated area in a conference room where the floor had been covered in a nice, soft layer of protectant, and crew members signed up for fifteen-minute sessions of cuddling and playing with them in between rest sessions where the puppies napped and ate under the supervision of their minders. 

After her first session, Burnham came back three more times, and she wasn't the only one -- a good number of the crew came back again and again, and soon the minders were recruiting Discovery crew to do voluntary clean-up, feeding, and run the puppies through basic obedience training. Even the more hesitant members of the crew stopped by to watch and take pictures and videos of the goofy creatures' antics. And in the end, even Saru found his way there. 

"I really don't think I should--"

"Come on, Captain. Just hold her." Kayla Detmer held out a round chocolate lab puppy, who yawned a big pink yawn. "She's sleepy, she won't be any trouble."

"I shouldn't... er... bother it, then. All those teeth..."

"They're just baby teeth. Sharp, but they won't hurt you. And she's too lazy right now to bite you, anyway. Here."

And before Saru could make any further excuses, Kayla deposited the puppy into his arms, where she wriggled briefly, then sighed, rested her chin on his arm, and closed her eyes. 

"I..." The very tips of Saru's threat ganglia, which had begun to emerge when Kayla handed the puppy over, paused... and then retreated. "She is... very warm, isn't she?"

"Very," Kayla agreed happily. 

"And soft."

"Absolutely. I'll just be over here, there's a bit of a mess to clean up from earlier. You just..." Kayla swallowed a laugh. "You just let me know if you need anything. Okay, captain?"

"All right." Very hesitantly, Saru's long fingers stroked over the soft fur of the puppy's back. Then he noticed Burnham, who had been sitting at the side of the room next to Ash, who was cross-legged on the floor with a puppy on his lap. He couldn't bring himself to hold or even touch them quite yet, but he'd slowly moved over the course of the week from standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest as if he had to keep track of his hands at every moment or they might fly away and do something he couldn't control, to being able to let the puppies run around and over his legs so long as he kept his palms firmly on the floor. It was progress. 

"You were right about this... Commander."

"Lieutenant," Burnham corrected.

"No. I'm recommending that you be reinstated to your former rank. Pending Admiral Cornwell's approval--"

"I'd rather not," Burnham interrupted. "Not... not just yet. I don't... I haven't earned that. Not yet."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Saru gave a snort, then looked down, startled, as the puppy shifted in her sleep. When he spoke again, it was in a quieter and more measured tone. "What you've done for this crew, Burnham--"

"Doesn't make up for what happened on the Shenzhou. Just because I ended this war... it doesn't mean I didn't start it. And it doesn't mean I didn't betray Georgiou. I'm not ready to be a commander again. Lieutenant is fine with me."

Saru blinked, then, slowly, inclined his head in acknowledgement. Slowly, cautiously, Ash rested his hand on the small of her back, and, taking in a breath and letting it out as a sigh, Burnham allowed herself to lean back against his touch. The puppy on his knee whuffled and kicked in her sleep, then shifted and settled again. 

There would be time. They would all heal, slowly, but surely. Someday, Burnham felt sure, she would be ready to be back where she had been on the Shenzhou -- to be the second-in-command of a starship, and maybe even to be its captain when the time was right. She wouldn't forget what had happened, and it wouldn't stop hurting. But it would be a part of the past, someday. 

"How's it going?" Cornwell asked when she arrived for her appointment that afternoon. They met casually, in Cornwell's quarters on Starbase 46. She still had a limp, and walked slowly and awkwardly, and she had to sit a lot more than she used to -- there was nerve damage, no matter what the best of Starfleet medical technology had been able to do to salvage her spine and give her back her ability to walk. Sometimes she had to use a chair to get around. But she managed.

"It's... getting better," Burnham said. "Slowly. But it is. For all of us."

Cornwell smiled. "Sometimes that's the best we can hope for."


End file.
